


A Bad Start

by DruidX



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DruidX/pseuds/DruidX
Summary: A young forcer user, training in the ways of the Grey Jedi, makes the mistake of crossing a Sith Lord. Now she and her Master must leave Dathomir if they want to outrun The Collector.
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a P&P RPG I played last year. My char and her Jedi Master never really got the backstory they deserved, so here is part of it at least.  
> The GM set our adventure ~200 years before the events of The Phantom Menace, to give himself room for manoeuvre.

It started like any other day. Pela slunk through the streets of Eedu, between grand buildings dilapidated by the constant mists, besides those who used the Force to hide their true selves. She took twisting turns through the close-knit streets, sweeping around puddles in the broken road and over rampant vines, her head down and face covered over by the dun headscarf. Tiny, unremarkable Pela, in her scrappy, piecemeal clothes. A pale, pathetic human on a planet of strong and fine-boned Dathomirir.

Finally out of that ever-present mist, turning to fire in the setting sun, rose her target – a rusting metal dome from which spilt laughter and music. Folk left the place, swaying under the influence of drink or drugs. Some made their way back to the spaceport, hidden behind warnings and fences. Others, often in the company of others, drifted into the main streets of Eedu. Pela watched them all from the shade of a tree, dark eyes flicking over each person, feeling the whorls and eddies of Force that flowed through the area, as her Master had taught. The biggest pull was from inside the rusted cantina, so on she went, moving like a wraith – pale and sickly on light feet.

Inside, the cantina was dim. Pela pulled off her gloves, stuffing them into her bag. The pulse of the music was strong, a heavy beat that pushed at her skin. She stilled and centred herself, letting the beat slide past her, like a heartbeat, smelling the incense and the unwashed bodies of a dozen different species and cultures. She walked forward, gliding through the crowds. A touch on an elbow. Ghosting over a neck. The caress of a lekku. Each opened a new world to her, seen through the eyes of those she graced. This one was shipping power cells. She tucked the information away – it might be handy later. That one was meeting a mistress. Less useful, but maybe someone would pay for the information. Still, there was that pull of the Force... Tricky to nail down, it wafted like an exotic spice – muted burgundy against the wash of muddy blue, moss-green and umber – calling, whispering to her.

Pela wound her way through the crowds, eager to follow the pull. It led her towards a booth at the centre of the cantina, wherein sat a tall figure, enveloped in coarse black robes. They must have something of great worth, she thought, padding up. The wraith let her hand drop, intending only to trail her fingers over the back of a wrist. The moment she did so, there was the  _ snap _ of a static discharge. Pela's eyes widened. That wasn't supposed to happen... The figure pulled away, looking up at the terrified girl. Red eyes met hazel. Pela's mind rang with unknown words; a sensation of something new and fully formed existing where it shouldn't, crowding her mind. Before he could shout, Pela was off, barging through the crowd to the cantina's exit. Her breath came in spurts, her heart hammering louder, faster than the music. Her head whirled, trying to make sense of what happened, of the fact she'd stolen a full memory, that she'd stolen from someone important. A call rang out behind her. The wraith whimpered. He was coming for her.


	2. Chapter 2

"Master!" Pela cried, slamming the door closed behind her.  
"Ah, there you are," said a tall Zabrack, walking into the living area from the kitchen, "Ishtar called by to ask how you were getting on with their shield oscillator-"  
"Master, we have a problem. We have to leave. Now!" She raced past the confused Zabrack, into the kitchen, pulling out packets of dry food and cramming them into her pack.  
"Pela?" he said. When she didn't respond, he marched over, gripping her shoulders and twisting her around. "Pela! What happened?"  
"Oh! Master! There's a man. He's coming for me. I stole something, with the Force, I didn't mean to! It just happened, it jumped from his mind, and now he's following me, I know he is and he's going-"  
"Slow down! Slowly now, what happened?"  
"Master Darruhl, please. We don't have  _ time _ -"  
Pela paled further as a heavy banging sounded on the door to their tiny apartment. Darruhl glanced at the door and back to his student.  
"Yes, I sense it too," he said to the unspoken question in her eyes. The banging came again. "Quickly now, girl." The Zabrack pushed Pela towards the kitchen's large window. "Get to the roof, and be calm, as I have taught you. Once I've rid us of this person, we'll leave. Now, go! Go!"  
Pela slipped through the window and out onto the ledge. She crouched a little, then pushed up, using the Force to propel herself to the next ledge and the next, landing with little grace on the roof of the building.  
  


Satisfied his student was safe, Darruhl pulled off his trousers, wrapping the outer robes of grey around himself as though hurriedly pulled on, before answering the door.  
"Yes, yes," he snapped, looking up at the large black droid on his doorstep. "What is it? I was sleeping, you know."  
"Apologies for disturbing you sir," said the guard droid. "Are you Darruhl Kain?"  
"And if I am?" the Master asked.  
"Do you associate with one 'Cookie' Crom? First name unknown."  
Darruhl shook his head, wishing the guard hadn't been a droid. People were so much easier to manipulate.  
"No, I don't know anyone of that name," he told the droid, trying to keep his heart-rate under control.  
"Then perhaps you have seen this person? She was observed entering this housing block." The droid brought up a holovid of a waif, all narrow gangly limbs, with her head and part of her face obscured by a dark scarf.  
Again, Darruhl shook his head. "Can't say that I have. Though that picture isn't much to go by. What've they done, anyway?"  
"This person is accused of stealing something very valuable from one of Dathomir's guests in the spaceport."  
"Well, I can't help you," Darruhl said.  
"I suggest you cease lying," came a new voice from behind the droid. The security droid looked over his shoulder.  
"Sir, I agreed to your accompaniment as a gesture of goodwill," the droid said. "I detect no irregularities with this gentleman's answers. I request you leave the police-work to me."  
"I have elected to ignore your request," said the new voice. The droid was forced to the side by some unseen hand, it's metal feet squealing on the concrete passageway. It voiced some complaint, but Darruhl had stopped paying it any attention. A figure, swathed in black robes stepped into the doorway, forcing the Zabrack back a few steps. Darruhl sniffed the air. A Sith. Of all the people his student could have tanged with, it  _ had _ to be a Sith...  
"I know she's here," said the sith, his voice cold and smooth as ice. "Hand her over. I want back what she stole."  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Darruhl said, his hand going to the lightsaber at his belt. "It's just me here. I suggest you leave on your own or I will throw you out."  
The sith had been reaching for his weapon, but now paused, his eyes flicking around the apartment. He looked back at the Zabrack.  
"Perhaps she has indeed departed, but she was here. Make no mistake, Darruhl Kain: I will find my thief, and will take back what she has stolen, with all the Force at my disposal." With that the sith turned in a dramatic billow of robes, stalking out of the apartment. 

Darruhl watched him retreat down the corridor before closing the door.  
A sith. He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. Why, by the Force, did it have to be a Sith? He walked back to the kitchen, activating his comlink. This was no longer a simple case of moving a few cities over...  
"Pela?" he called through the 'link.  
"Yes, Master?" came her timid reply.  
"Get back in here. We need to pack."


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you really think this will work, Master?" Pela asked as the two stood near a star freighter, waiting for the ship's captain to appear. Night had truly fallen now, the warm mist leaving dew on Pela's shoulders. It muffled and obscured everything around them, the lights of the spaceport creating pearly spears of light that illuminated nothing and everything.  
"Yes, my student, I do." The older man stood tall, confidence radiating from him, as Pela tried not to huddle at his side. She cast furtive glances into the night, seeing with more than her eyes, as her Force Master continued, trying to allay her fears. "Once spaceborne, we will be constantly on the move, never spending more than a few days on each planet or station. It is a big galaxy out there, my dear. Only the best bounty hunters would ever hope to catch up with us. I doubt very much that this Sith has skill nor patience to track us down."  
"Track _me_ , Master," the human said, her tone unhappy. "Perhaps it would be best-"  
Darruhl turned, gripping his student by her frail shoulders. "Pela, I may be many things, but an apostate is not one of them. I will _not_ abandon you. Not now, not ever. Do not suggest such a thing again!"   
Pela sunk into herself, averting her gaze. "No, Master. Of course not. I apologise."  
Darruhl let out a pained sigh. He'd long since given up on trying to convince his student she need not cower or apologise to him. Instead, the Zabrack chucked her chin, then rested his forehead carefully against hers, mindful on his horns.  
"Trust in the force, my student," he said. "Let it guide you, let it be your strength. Remember who we are." He began chanting, his voice lilting in the cadence of one who has spoken the words many times before. Pela joined in, her voice tremulous at first but swelling with quiet confidence, 

" _ I am the dividing line.  
_ _ I am the place where two halves meet.   
_ _ In my left hand, I wield the darkness; in my right hand, I wield the light.  
_ _ The Force is my center, and I am the center of the Force.  
_ _ The sword I wield is grey, the line between the light side and the dark.  
_ _ On its edge, I hang the needs of the Force.  
_ _ For I am the balance, the symmetry, and the harmony.  
_ _ I am the Grey." _

They drew away from each other then and Pela felt her Master's Force presence surround her, as warm as any hug.  
"Thank you, Master," she murmured, sending her own back. 

Beside them came the clanks and hisses of the freighter's ramp lowering. Darruhl flicked his robes free of his sabre handle, as Pela moved behind him, facing into the shimmering spaceport.  
"Greetings, sir," Darruhl said as a Bothan descended the ramp. "I presume you are Captain Manosh Fay-Laoy?"  
"Good evening to you," said the Bothan, as a blue Mon Calamari waddled down the ramp behind him and crossed her arms. "Please, call me Manny. I assume you are Darruhl Kain, the one who contacted me about leaving this delightful planet?" he added, derision heavy on the word 'delightful'.  
"I am, indeed. Have you considered my proposal then?" Darruhl asked. Behind the Mon Calamari appeared a T8 unit and a Trandoshan. Darruhl squinted at the Trandoshan. There was something off about the man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it...  
"I have," said Manny, twisting the hair on his chin in thought. "I believe it will be an equitable exchange." He gestured to the Trandoshan, "Visq here could use some back-up, and I know I'd feel safer having another fighter aboard. I'm sure Nindan and T8 wouldn't mind help to keep the  _ Soaring Saladin _ flying, either." 

The T8 unit trundled down next to the Mon Calamari and gave a couple of sharp, descending blips. The Mon Calamari, Nindan, nictitated her eyes.   
"He says he hopes your mechanic is as good as you claim because the  _ Saladin _ needs a great deal of help staying in the sky." She glanced around. "Where are they?"  
"There is not a machine out there that she cannot coax into behaving," Darruhl said. "Isn't that right my dear?" The Zabrack stepped aside, and Pela turned.   
"I, ah," she stammered, flicking worried eyes at her master.   
He raised an eyebrow. "Now is not the time to be modest."  
The human ducked her head. "Yes Master," she said, her voice chary. Pela turned to Nindan, the human keeping her eyes downcast, twisting her fingers. "If... if it please you, Mem, my Master is correct. I have not yet met a mechanism that didn't respond to my assistance." Nindan narrowed her eyes and glanced down at the astromech. It gave a short ascending beep, followed by a longer descending one. It chattered a moment longer before Nindan nodded to it. The astromech trundled down the ramp and over to Pela, blooping at her demandingly. Pela took a step backwards, her eyes wide and wild. Darruhl put a hand on her shoulder.  
"I think our little friend here would like a demonstration," he said.  
"Oh." Pela crouched down. "My apologies Messer T8. Let me run a diagnostic." 

From her pack, the girl pulled a tool roll. She took a few deep breaths, her eyes closed, and ran a hand over the droid. T8 blipped and turned, trying to follow her hand, but she clamped her other on his top. "Please don't move." After a long moment, she opened her eyes. "Poor baby," she said, voice filled with pity. "You really need an oil bath. But here," she flipped open his front casing, fiddling with the droid's innards for a moment. "That should help stabilize your AGP array until I can look at it properly, and I think I've mended that loose through-flow – your thrusters should be a little more even in power-output now." Pela closed up the front panel and patted T8. "Feel a bit better now, sweetie?" she asked. The astromech buzzed and whirred a moment, then let out a bleep that sounded a lot like 'Yippee!'. T8 dashed over to Nindan, jabbering at her. The Mon Calamari cocked her head as she listened, then turned to her Captain.   
Nindan gave a burbling chuckle. "He's asking if we can keep her," she translated to the Bothan. Manny nodded, turning back to Darruhl.   
The Bothan grinned. "If your mechanic has T8's approval, then she has mine. Welcome aboard, Mr Kaine," Manny said, ushering the Zabrack and his human companion aboard the freighter.


End file.
